<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Paeonia by NuclearNik</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24533779">Paeonia</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuclearNik/pseuds/NuclearNik'>NuclearNik</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Injury, Post-Battle of Hogwarts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:08:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>518</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24533779</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuclearNik/pseuds/NuclearNik</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The flames have barely gone out after the final battle, and Hermione tries to make sense of the ruin left behind.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>102</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Paeonia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was originally written for Round 3 of the LDWS comp with the prompt of peonies and compassion. I've added a little bit extra to it now that I'm not restricted by word count. </p><p>Un-beta'd. Any mistakes are on me.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It is not in the night when the devil comes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are no shadows or glowing red eyes. The sun is out, soft clouds and birdsong floating through the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The world wilts, not all at once but slowly, darkness coming on the heels of heavy boots crushing the budding flowers of spring beneath their soles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon the sky is filled with smoke and snakes entwined in skulls, scorched earth all that is left of Hermione's sanctuary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is nothing but wreckage in the wake of this war; just fallen bodies and sobbing loved ones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing but wreckage… and a single flower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She kneels on the ground beside it, fingers gently brushing pockmarked petals, bright against the shattered stone around it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is strong, hardy. It is a point of pure beauty amid the ugliness of battle, and for the first time since the fighting started, the sharp burn of tears stings her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shadow appears on the ground, and she looks over her shoulder to see a figure standing behind her. Her gaze quickly scans up a thin frame to a pale face marked with soot, fair hair hanging lank over tired eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He extends a hand, and she is confused for a moment; this is not a friend. Hazy memories flicker through her mind of him turning his wand against his allies, taking out Death Eaters as he stood in front of his mother's body on the ground behind him. She remembers that at the end, he'd done the right thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he tugs her up, the sleeve of her shirt slips, exposing her forearm and the still-fresh wound carved into her flesh. The lines of his face are tight, guilt emanating from him in waves, and she peers up at him in curiosity. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Regret?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There is regret in his gaze, and it makes her think of when they'd locked eyes while she was writhing in pain on the drawing-room floor of his family home. She had seen regret then, too, muddled up with fear and a sense that he was split down the middle in an impossible position.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're bleeding."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She thinks he means her scar, and she opens her mouth to say it's cursed and will never fully heal, but something slides down her eyelid to drip off her lashes, and she realises it is blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carefully, as if trying not to spook her, he lifts his hand and whispers an incantation. She feels a clump of her hair dry, no longer stuck to her forehead as he siphons the blood away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pressing her fingers to the wound, she inhales sharply at the pain that shoots through her skull like bolts of electricity. She tries to turn and see what she can do for the injured in the Great Hall, tries to do something, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but before she can take a step, black presses in at the edges of her vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Granger?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the world fades, she vaguely registers a pair of arms catching her and keeping her safe, so incongruent to everything she's known to be true about the wizard holding her.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>